


the moon that breaks the night

by redledgers



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Darkness, F/M, Vampires, Werewolves, the au taliesin totally did(n't) ask for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 08:13:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10681284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redledgers/pseuds/redledgers
Summary: the blood moon is enough for them both





	the moon that breaks the night

**Author's Note:**

> the doc name for this was werewoof. thanks to my encouragers percyvex and thegoldenlocks on tumblr y'all are too good.
> 
> mature for themes I guess

Over the horizon, the sun sets, dipping down below the Alabaster Sierras, and she marks the moment she can see the full blood moon peek from behind the clouds. “Darling,” she calls back into their room, back into the shadows of luxury. “I should think you’re finished by now.” Normally she doesn’t miss his transformation, delights in the bulge and tear of muscles, the burst of fur and fangs. _Darling,_ she had said once, grinning. _We match_.

She feels his presence before she feels him, a looming monstrosity that rubs against her as he steps to the edge of the balcony. In this form, she comes up to his shoulder, feels small in the way only he was allowed make her feel. His tail brushes against her back and then he is gone, leaping into the world, into the woods. She follows behind at her leisure; he’ll find her when he’s ready. It’s a game: the terror they rule over, the sharp slip of power from the hands of those who preceded them. He’s uncontrollably angry, a storm of force and power biding behind blue eyes, waiting to be unleashed on someone who barely crosses him. Like this, it is worse.

From somewhere beyond the outskirts, she hears his howl echoing. Once, twice, and then she waits because now he will tear through the underbrush to find her, jowls dark with the blood of his kills, dirt and entrails streaked through his soft white fur. It’s not what she prefers, but she runs her nails across his muzzle, sucks her fingers into her mouth, and watches him crouch low on the ground, a soft growl rolling across the moss. She lets him have his fill then, until the blood moon fades and his claws have raked and scarred the earth. In the morning, he leaves teeth marks on her skin and white fur on the sheets. 

As the midday bell tolls, he arrives with a stable hand in tow. She descends the staircase and comes to stand before them. “What’s this, darling?” she asks, trailing a finger down the stable hand’s cheek. To his credit, he doesn’t move, just looks back at her with wide eyes.

“A gift,” he replies, and she pulls her hands back to clap excitedly.

“You always bring me the most delightful things.” She steps to the side to kiss him hard, arm flashing out to stop the other man from edging away. Her nails dig sharply into his sleeve. “So pretty,” she whispers against his lips before turning to the stable hand.

This time it’s quick; she doesn’t always like to drag it out when she’s feeling particularly ravenous. But the boy is sweet and pliant, and when she’s licked the last of the blood off her teeth, someone comes to bring him to a back alley and put gold in his pocket. It’s not as if people don’t know, but the intrigue, the desire to wreak havoc on the city below is the reason they came. The monstrosities they bring, the mechanics they create. She drapes her arms around Percival’s neck and he growls, a pale imitation of what he can truly do. There’s blood on her neck. He licks it up, grins down at her, and murmurs, “What demon should we summon next?”

 


End file.
